


The First Kiss

by ActuallyGimli



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7212712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyGimli/pseuds/ActuallyGimli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What should have happened at 221B before the fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic so any criticism would be greatly appreciated.

John was just coming up the stairs when he heard gunshots fire in their apartment. 

“Sherlock!” he shrieked as he burst through the door, his own gun in hand.

“Yes, John?” Sherlock replied calmly without looking up at him. 

“What in bloody hell were you shooting at?” He scanned the room, his eyes resting on the bullet holes in the wall behind the sofa. Sherlock didn’t seem to notice the anger in his friend’s voice and he strode over to the couch and sat down. 

“I’m bored, John!” he yelled finally. Of course it was more than that; firing guns had been his way of coping with stress and… feelings. Sitting down in the chair next to the couch and knowing there were no new cases to work on, he though of other things that might help Sherlock to cope. 

“Then maybe, he began, still furious and exasperated, “you should get a girlfriend and stop blowing bloody holes in the walls”

“Not really my area…” The silence thickened. 

“A boyfriend then?” John suggested. Sherlock looked up at his friend for the first time since he had entered the room searching for any signs of a hidden meaning behind those words. There was a flash of something across Sherlock’s features. Desperation? Sadness? 

“Not possible,” he replied rather withdrawn. Not possible? What’s that supposed to mean? 

“The only man I could ever have those feelings for doesn’t feel the same about me.” John pondered this reply for a moment. It was unusual for Sherlock to open up about his deeper feelings and it caught him off guard. So he is gay, John thought as a smile tugged at his lips. Then it hit him; Sherlock was talking about him! He looked up to meet nervous eyes waiting for a response. 

His face flushed and he looked back at his lap, “Umm… I, umm…” A mischievous grin spread over Sherlock’s face. John looked back up at him and blushed even harder, if that was possible.

“So I was right,” Sherlock began, “you do have feelings for me.” Tidal waves crashed in John’s stomach and his anger began to rise again.

“You bloody arsehole! Is everything a bloody game to you?” He was embarrassed to have shown this side of himself. After all, he wasn’t gay was he? 

“I never said it was a game, I simply had a hunch that you just confirmed. If it had been a game I may have bluffed…” Sherlock trailed off. He didn’t notice John move to the sofa beside him. “I never lied to you, John, I meant what I said.” He looked up and noticed his friend beside him. 

“John, I…” Sherlock started but was cut off by warm lips pressing against his own. He pulled away, confused. This wasn’t the response he’d expected, not from a friend who constantly denied being gay, who always had a new girlfriend to prove that fact. He wasn’t prepared for this, he’d kissed people before but only for the sake of solving a case. This had been completely different from anything he’d expected; it wasn’t calculated, it wasn’t logical, it was raw and foreign.

“I’ve never…” Sherlock began shyly. 

“Just shut up,” John breathed before kissing him again, this time longer and more desperately.


End file.
